Fools Rush In
by Ginny Ha-ha
Summary: Ever wondered where the characters go when the authors have finished toying with them...? Maybe you should try asking them. One day, you might just get an answer...
1. An Author's Bond

POEM BY ME

Fools Rush In

By Ginny :)

I appologise for being so slow lately. I've had a science GCSE and a maths test. I have my grade 7 acting exam in a few days, and I need to read 'Northen Lights' and 'Much Ado About Nothing' in 5 days... argghhh... 

Ok, after what happened to Cassandra Claire, I'm gonnna take my disclaimers a *little* more seriously. Ahem; 

I own Sarah Linnet aka _*Everworld86*._ And I own the Gaurds. And The Establishment. Everything else is owned by J. K Rowling, espeacially the starting line, cause she wrote it before me ^_^ The title comes from the probverb 'Fools rush in where angels fear to tread'. Much thanks to hermione potter for betaing! 

Please read and review! 

Ginny :) 

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"... As Hagrid had said, what would come, would come... And he would have to meet it when it did." 

_Sarah Linnet put down the book with a happy smile. This was the 12th time she'd read 'Harry Potter and The Goblet Of Fire", and she still wasn't tired of it! Lucky Harry, getting to go to Hogwarts, having all those cool lessons and adventures and stuff! If only she, Sarah, could have got an owl letter for her 11th birthday! How cool would that have been?! Very, **very** cool! Even about that Voldemort and that slimy bugger, Snape. Even with a little git like Malfoy! Pity reality wasn't shaped like that... Sarah sighed, stood up, and crossed the room to her computer. _

_Fanfic writing time! Look out, world, here comes Sarah Linnet aka *Everworld86*!_

_She stared at the screen for maybe fifteen minutes. What could she write about? Something would present it's self, eventually. _

"OK, finished!" Harry heard someone cry behind him. With a sad sigh, he knew what this meant. He was to go back to the... the... 'establishment', as the Guards put it-- although it was really little more then a prison-- where he and his fellow characters went when they were unused. 

"Oy, you boy! Potter! Move along there!" someone pushed him harshly, dragging him by one arm, back onto the Muggle's King's Cross Station. A Guard escorted each of the other characters behind Harry. The Guards were... unexplainable. As soon as you tried to look at them, they seemed to be somewhere else, although they never once moved out the way of his line of sight in the human, material way that people are meant to move. 

Behind him, Harry could hear Malfoy complaining loudly, and some other far off argument. 

Harry accepted his fate. He'd tried arguing, but long ago discovered that his will was not his own. He watched a group of Muggles on the platform sadly, nauseatingly aware that he was invisible to them, even though they were so clear to him. 

A family was arguing heated about something. 2 youngish children were busy pretending to shoot each other with invisible guns, and being barrated for it by their mother. A gang of teenagers were mucking around, one boy hanging upside down by the barrier that separated Platforms 9 and 10, his other 2 friends laughing, singing loudly about someone called Hippocrates to the tune of "Ev'rywhere We Go". A busker was playing a Disney song on his guitar. People threw coins and talked amoungst themselves. 

Harry envied them. To be sent to Hogwarts, to be a part of the wizarding world, was little more, little less, then a curse. The darkest curse in the world. 

Complete control-- which's the curse that was on them. And far stronger then any Crucatus curse, because this was one that could not be fought or broken. An author's bond with her subjects. 

As the procession of dismal characters was lead out of King's Cross Station. Where there should have been a street filled with Muggles, a dark gray building faced them. Its windows were like blind eyes, staring bleakly at them. The door creaked as it was pulled harshly open, like a mouth complaining of being hungry. 

"In there, boy." He was shoved unceremoniously into a cell of a room. The door slammed. He was trapped. 

Harry stared around the room. Barred windows. No bed. A cardboard-hard settee was the only place to sit, apart from the gritty floor. There was also a sink, gray with dirt, it's taps covered in deep blood- red rust. The walls were plain, white- washed, moulting the pale powder like dandruff. 

Harry felt a kind of... not exactly fear... there was no accurate word for it. It wasn't the kind of sudden terror, the horror that grips the mind like a vice, but a kind of slow, dreading sickness that seems to screw it's self slowly into your stomach. A feeling like that is too complex just to be referred to by a word as uninformative as 'fear'. 

Harry slouched, face down, on the settee, sick to his stomach. He could be in this place for a long time yet. There was no one to talk to, or, for that matter, nothing to say. Everything Harry had ever said or done since the age of just before 11, had been given to him, arrived in his brain, constructed by a mind that was not his own. He did not know the other people that were also part of the cruel game, the 'story', the will of this other person, that they were all forced to take a part in. They had to be something like the characters they were forced to play, surely? Harry supposed he was, but he was not as strong as that Harry was. He couldn't fight a wizard like Voldemort. He couldn't even fight a Muggle writer, who might pass for a witch, with the magic spells she wove using words. 

They were slaves. Once they were shoved out of the story, they were worth-less. Harry vaguely wondered what happened to those characters that died in the series. What about, say, Quirrel? Was he stuck somewhere in this hell- hole, never allowed out, even to obey someone else's will? 

Or was he... disposed of? Harry liked to think that he had been allowed to leave, to return to happy and beautiful Reality, but it seemed unlikely. Reality was another place. This was Fiction, so much harsher, surely, then anything Reality could offer? 

A noise made Harry start, and look round. It was odd to hear a sound so close. Usually, they were distant, as if from the opposite end of a long tunnel. 

The noise, though, was nearby. A noise like tapping... as though from the inside of the wall... curious, Harry crossed to it, and tapped back. 

Tap, tap taptap 

Tap taptap, tap 

Tap 

Taptap 

Someone was definitely knocking in reply to him. Harry frowned, confused for a moment. 

"Hello?" he called. 

"Who is that?" a voice called back. It was a female voice, which Harry recognised. 

"Hermione?" 

"You can't be. I'm her. Who're you?" 

"I meant, is that Hermione?" 

"Yes it is, I just said," she sounded irritable, "It's me, and, and thingy. Ron. Now who are you?!" 

"Harry." 

"Well, that's something." 

"Where are you?" 

"Inside the cavity in the wall." 

"Um, why?" 

The voice that answered was not Hermione's, but Ron's, heavily sarcastic "For our health. You ask a stupid question and you're going to get a stupid answer, Harry. 

Harry thought he could hear Hermione glaring at Ron though the wall. He grinned slightly. It was weird... he'd never once had a free- willed conversation with them before. 

"Ignore Ron," Hermione tutted, "We're trying to escape!" 

"Really?" Harry was surprised. The idea had only vaguely occurred to him before... who knew why. 

"Really." Hermione confirmed. "Look, it's a bit squashed and airless in here. Harry, can you make a hole in the wall somehow?" she persisted, ever practical. 

Harry looked round, frowning to himself, "Yes... I think so... wait a moment..." He wished he had his wand with him. As it was, Harry took half a dozen steps back, and took the wall at a run. He smacked hard into it. A shower of plaster and whitewash fell onto him clothes. He massaged his arm where he had bruised it. 

"Ow! I can't get through!" 

"Try again!" 

"OK." 

Again, he ran into the wall. Again, it moulted more fine powder. It took another 2 more runs before it finally began to crack, and a large chunk of wall-plaster fell away, revealing the cavity to Harry. It contained, as promised, Ron and Hermione. 

"C'mon!" Ron grabbed Harry's arm, and pulled him through the gap, "Hurry up!" 

"Why? What--?" 

Hermione grinned at him, her face alight, "We," she said, "Are all going to escape." 

"All of us?" 

"That's certainly the plan, yes." 

"Where to?" 

"The Muggle world." 

"Is this really a good idea?" 

"Yes." 

"Won't the Muggles notice?" 

"Doesn't matter," Her face was set hard, "We just have to get out of here. We've got to!" 

Ron nodded fervently at her side, "Yeah, else we'll be stuck here forever. Like, like slaves." 

"Like House- Elves!" Hermione added, just to hammer the point home. Harry sighed. In Fiction or Reality, Hermione was obviously not going to forgive anyone who dared mistreat House- elves. 

"Are you with us?" Ron turned to Harry, "Coz if you're not with us, you're against us!" 

"Yeah," Harry was still confused, but common sense entered in, "Yeah, I'm with you. Let's go!" 

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I plan to continue this at some point, not nessisarily in the near future, but you never know. 

As a kind of 'experiment', is there anyone out there who would like to feature in this as a charactor, as in a fanfiction writer?? Any takers?? I just need one or two innocent victims... if so, please Email me at rachel@meghora.freeserve.co.uk or leave a review, with your pen name, what 'real' name you'd like in this, your looks, hobbies, personality, fave HP book/ character, and anything else you want to tell me about you!! No, you won't be portrayed as an evil person who wants to torment charactoers [unless you want to be. There's always _one_, isn't there?] It'll be a bit of publicity, and you'll probably get a complimentory plug too ;) ! Any takers? It'd be even better if you have MSN or Yahoo or AIM/ AOL chat servers... but don't worry if you don't. 

And please take a few seconds to review... in that little box down there, please... 

Ginny :) 

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	2. The Four Word Witches

POEM BY ME

Fools Rush In

Chapter 2

By Ginny :)

::waves:: Thanks for all your Emails/ reviews about being in the story!! Everyone who asked will be mentioned, but the main roles are for; 

Ariel Patche [she's not a HP author on this site, but what the heck, she still writes stories] 

Miriam Tatley [ditto] 

Hermione2 ['Sophia Jimeneza'] 

Eyra Dragonsworth 

Deep Roller ['Paloma Raban'] 

Wierdlet ['Dara'] 

GinnyWeasley ['Jaqui Blaire'] 

Aria* ['Sierra Reeves'] 

Tom Riddiply ['Emma Lawkes'] 

Not all the characters will appear yet ^_^ If you're not a main character, it's nothing personal! Just be glad that you escaped my creativity. Oh, and sorry to dissapoint everyone, but desprite the demands,_ NO ONE_ is going to date Sirius or Lupin, bearing in mind the oldest author in this is about 16, and they're somewhere in their 30s... cat fight all you want over Draco. ~_^ He's a grey area. I am refusing to do anything about him. 

Ginny :) 

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The three friends made their way along through the dusty wall-cavity, coughing dust, collecting cobwebs in their hair, and dodging spiders and beetles. 

"Who else are we going to get?" Harry asked, after they had shuffled several feet. 

"As many as possible," came Hermione's quick reply, "but we will come back for the others. We can't leave them here!" 

"We could." Ron interrupted, "I think we should leave the Malfoys. And Voldemort. And Snape, he made me--" 

"He didn't make you do anything," Hermione objected, "He has no more free will then we did!" 

"Yeah," Ron admitted reluctantly, "But, I mean, he would have done. I couldn't act like someone I'm not, whatever She wanted." 

"She?" Harry questioned. 

"J. K Rowling." Hermione said, shuddering slightly. Harry realised that Ron had been willing to say Voldemort's name... but yet refused to say the name of Joanne Rowling. "For all you know, Ron, Voldemort might be a nice guy who calls himself Rosumray at weekends and who listens to Gardener's Question Time." 

Ron looked disblieveing. Harry had to agree with him. Even Hermione seemed a bit doubtful. 

"Well, Hogwarts students can be priority to get out, but we'd better not take many more just now," Hermione said decidedly, "One or two. Else She'll start noticing." 

"She might notice," Harry pointed out "That the 3 main characters have up and left anyway." 

"She'll think it's writer's block." 

"What about," Ron shuddered here, "_Fanfiction authors_?" 

"Same for them." 

"_All _of them?" Harry felt a flicker of incredulity. 

"They can't all be bad." 

"They can," said Ron decidedly, "_You_ usually get off easily. You don't even want to know what I've been though." 

"We've all had moments like that I'm sure, Ron." Hermione sighed, "Stop complaining. Let's soo whose in this bit..." she stopped and banged on the wall, as she had done to Harry. 

Silence. 

She banged again. 

"Hello? Is someone there?" a decidedly upper class voice answered, a very definite obnoxious note to it. 

"Malfoy?" 

"What?" 

"It's Hermione, Harry and Ron. We're escaping." 

Silence. 

"We're escaping!" Harry repeated Hermione's words. 

"You're _not_!!" Malfoy sounded shocked. Harry was almost sure he could detect ammusement in there somewhere. 

"We are so." Ron added in. 

"You joining us?" Hermione called through. There was silence for another moment. Then... 

"Yes. Yes, I will... how?" 

"Well, I had to bust through the wall." 

"Me too." 

"And me." 

"Looks like you're going to have to do the same." 

"Typical. Absolutely typical. Still, I suppose even going with you people is better then staying here. Mudblood, you're suppsed to be clever. Blast a hole in the wall for me." 

"Don't call her Mudblood!" Ron objected. 

Hermione sighed, "Don't waste time arguing, Ron. Malfoy, I am not going to blast a hole for you! Do you want the Gaurds to come running and catch us when they hear the bang? If you don't bash your way though, we're leaving you here! So hurry up and do it or else." 

"Don't tell me what to do, Granger." 

"Fine." Hermione motioned to Harry and Ron, "Come on, you two. Let's leave him here." 

"No! Wait!" 

The three friends grinned at each other. Malfoy's tone was panicy. No one deserved to be left behind, Harry supposed. Not even Malfoy. Well... _probably_ not even Malfoy. 

"All right. Hurry up about it before we change our minds." 

There came the noise of thumping on the wall, and cracks gradually appeared. A few more thuds, and the wall split completely and Malfoy's skinny body appeared. Ron gave him a cold smile, and Malfoy nodded stiffly back at each of them. Harry didn't like the expression on his pale face. He certainly didn't look like the kind of boy who listened to Gardener's Question Time, whatever Hermione seemed to think. She couldn't be right all the time, could she? 

"Are we going to get anyone else?" Harry asked, curious. 

"Not just now. Any more then for, and people really _will _ get suspcious... but we will come back for the others!" 

"All right. So long as we help everyone we can." Harry agreed, and Ron nodded. Malfoy didn't say anything. He didn't even jerk his head in agreement. 

Harry and Ron exchanged glances as the 4 continued on their way, hacking occaisionally from the fine dust they inhaled into their lungs, which also seemed to line the throat with a thin film of powder. No one spoke. There didn't seem to be anything to say. They'd never had to make their own conversation before. 

They might have been trudging along like that for 15 minutes, before they reached a dead end. The way was blocked. They exchanged glances once again. 

"Right. _Now_ I can use my wand, Malfoy." Hermione pulled it out of her pocket, and shook back the sleeves of her robes. "Stand back, everyone, and get ready to make a run for it. Right-- _Explodissium_!" 

The blocking wall seemed to errupt in a shower of brick and dust. A wall of grit and heat seemed to hit him. He choked on the particles. 

"_Run_!" Harry heard someone yell. The order went straight to his legs without troubling to reach his brain. Before he knew what he was doing, he was stumbling through thejagged hole in the wall, accompionied by his three accomplicies. 

Outside the hole was daylight, and the outside of the establishment. The brightness of the outside made him trip and blink like a fool, but he forced himself to keep running, Ron just ahead of him, Malfoy and Hermione just behind. 

Now he was aware of shouts, no doubt coming from the Gaurds. He hoped they didn't have magic. Hermione sent a couple of random curses behind them, but Harry didn't notice if they hit anyone. He kept his eyes fixed on the gate, which Ron had already dissapeared through. On the other side of that lay Reality. He had to reach it. All of them did. There, they had to be safe. The Gaurds could only go through them with Speacial Permission from _Her_. The characters could come when they wanted, the Gaurds were there to get them when they were called. Harry didn't know how he knew this. It was instinct. He knew what to do as he reached them, from his experiences in getting onto Platfrm 9 and 3/4s. He shut his eyes all the same, expecting to feel the slap of cold metal against his skin... felt himself passing through air... 

... and fell over someone. 

"Hey!" An American accent childed him, "Watch it you arsehole! Jeez!" 

"Sorry," Harry gasped. 

"I mean, first him, now you!" The girl continued, pushing her tow hair off of her face, and giving Harry a heavy thump, while her companion stared agog, and Ron sat gaping on the station floor, "So much for '_jolly ol' English Reser_--' ow!" 

Hermione suddenly toppeled through the tube station entrence behind the girl, who had been leaning carelessly against the wall, followed closely by Malfoy. 

The three disentangled themselves, whilst the girl continued complaining loudly, "Stupid tossers, going round attacking tourists, aught to learn some friggin' _sense_..." she paused suddenly, "And where the hell didja come from, anyway?" 

"Um..." Ron began, but the girl's friend interrupted him. 

"Ariel, leave it, won't you? They probably didn't mean to." 

"We didn't," nodded Hermione, "We just, uh, were playing 'It', and didn't look where we were going... um." 

"Bloody stupid Muggles," Malfoy complained. Ariel and her friend gave him an odd look. 

"Kewl! Are you a Harry Potter fan?" 

Harry felt his neck grow hot as Ron gaped open mouthed and Hermione raised her eyebrows at him. Malfoy, however, went pale. 

"Hardly. He is _the most_ concieted imbeciele--" 

"I am not!" Harry yelled back, aware of the feeling of heat that was gradually rushing up from just below his collar. The two girls gaped at them. 

"You are! I don't see what's so speacial about you, stupid Potter with his stupid _scar_..." 

"Hmmm," Ariel looked at Harry critically, "See what you mean. A blind man could tell he used a felt- tip." 

"Er... hah hah hah..." said Hermione, trying to force a laugh, "Hah hah hah. Erm. Come on, boys..." She made as if to guide the two away, but the 2nd girl, who had an earnest expression behind her glasses and very long brown hair stopped her. 

"It has to be said," She began, "You four _are _ the spit 'n' image of some of the characters." 

"Well," Ron shifted his wieght uneasily, and clearned his throat, "We're, er, lookalikies. Buskers. Yeah. Um?" 

"Kewl!" he looked mildly impressed, giving Ron a full-on smile, "What're your names? Do you guys write fanfiction?" 

"They're fanfiction authors," Harry muttered to Hermione under his breath, "I know it. Let's move away slowly..." She nodded back quickly, but Ron was now in unthinking conversation with the girl. 

"Ron Weasley. He's Draco Malfoy, she's Hermione Granger, and he's Harry Potter. I... haven't written anything recently." 

"I meant your real names..." 

"Er--" 

"But whatever. If that's what you like to be called, Ron. I'm Paloma Raban, and she's Ariel Patche. I've started writing some stuff, but it's not posted yet. My pen name's Deep Roller, don't ask. She doesn't write stuff about Harry Potter. Whose your favourite character? Mine _has_ to be Ron Weasley." 

Harry noticed Ron go pink, "Er... Me too..." he said gruffly. 

"Kewl! This totally rocks!" 

"Pal, can you stop talking to those losers for one minute? I'm sure they'd like to leave. _Now_." Ariel's voice was meaningful. 

"It's no problem--" Ron began, but a look from Ariel silenced him. 

"Actually," Hermione butted in hastily, "I'd like a word with you, Ron. You too Malfoy. And Harry." 

The three boys joined her. Ariel and Pal exchanged glances once again, but did not make to leave, despite what Harry had expected. 

"They're fanfiction authors, right?" Hermione muttered, too quietly for the two Muggles to over hear them. 

"Yeah," said Ron, "Kind of. Well, Paloma is." 

"To Hell with Paloma," Malfoy interrupted, rolling his frosty grey eyes, "Stupid Yankee Muggle scum..." 

"Shut up!" Ron objected, "She's not that bad!" 

"Ooh, Weasley's got a soft spot for the filthy little Muggle moron!" Malfoy sneered mockingly. 

"I have not!" 

"_Anyway_," Hermione broke up the argument before it had a chace to get too vicious, "The point is, they're fanfiction authors. Or would be. Either one works for us. The point is-- we need someone like that to help us. No questions asked. They..." she frowned, "... It's hard to explain, but they have some kind of power, that means they can control us. If we can get them to help us, maybe they can convince others to stop writing about us." 

"So..." Harry wrinkled his brow in thought, "If fafiction authors don't write about us, we'll have free will propperly again? But, er, don't we have free will at the moment anyway?" 

"Yes, now we do," Hermione agreed, "But it's surely only a matter of time before She notices we're missing, and the Gaurds are after us, and... and if we can keep in Reality, we're immune to Her, but not entirely to them, unless they choose to write about us out of Fiction. If you see what I mean...?" 

They stared at her. Harry, for one, was lost. Ron and Malfoy both looked equilly confused. 

"You mean..." Ron thought for a simpler way of putting it, "They can control us too... but... we have to get them to only write about us, er, out of Fiction?" 

"Yes." 

"So... so, other can't write about us in Fiction?" 

"Yes." 

"And this makes sense to you?" 

"Yes." 

"Oh. All right." 

"And, besides, if someone doesn't write about us, we'll be forgotten, and..." she shrugged, "That's the end for us. We'll dissapear. Be lost. We have to get them to help us!" 

"Even Ariel?" Harry inquired, still sore where she had wacked him. 

"Even Ariel." Hermioned confirmed. 

"Let me get this straight," Malfoy interrupted, "We are going to ask a lot of _stupid Muggle Yankees_ to help us?! Honestly, you have no pride Mudblood. I, for one, am against it." 

"Just because they're Americans, and just because they're Muggles doesn't mean they're stupid or anything other then decent," Hermione argued, "You're Xenophobic. They're famfiction writers, we need their help!" 

"I'm with Hermione," Harry nodded. Not because he knew what she was talking about, but because anything was better then agreeing with Malfoy, "We need their help." 

"Me too. You're outnumbered, Malfoy." Ron shrugged. Harry wondered if he understood it any better then Harry himself did. You never knew. Probably Ron was just enjoying being flattered by Paloma. 

Malfoy muttered something under his breath, that prbably only could be translated as "All right, I agree." By an extremem optomist with very selective hearing. 

"I'll explain it to them, shall I?" Hermione asked. 

"Fine by me." 

They wandered back over to the two girls, who were now complaining about London Transport. 

"Hi." Pal greeted them smilingly. Ariel made an exasperated sound from between her teeth. Hermione took a deep breath. 

"We need your help." 

"Well, we don't need yours, so go make like a tree and leave!" Ariel shot back. 

"No, listen... we're serious." 

"Really? So am I! What a co- incidence!" Ariel added something, muttering under her breath, "Jeez, you Brits are _useless_, you can't don't even have trains that run vaugely on time..." 

"We are not! At least we aren't a lot of idiots that go around eating too much and--" 

"Well, nor are we! Poshnobs, the lot of you--" 

"Ariel, how about listening once in a while?" Pal suggested to her friend, "It's not their fault Miriam and Sophie's train is late. Ignore her, guys, and tell me what's up." 

"You've got to swear," Harry continued for Hermione, "That you won't go around telling people." 

"I swear. So does Ariel, don't you Ariel?" 

"What?" Ariel, who had been arguing with Malfoy, hadn't been listening. 

"See, Harry? Tell!" 

"Well... we're not buskers or lookalikies or anything. We really are us. No joke." 

Paloma and Ariel stared at him. Harry felt a hot rush in his cheeks. 

"You're mad." Ariel shook her head at him, "Insane, mental, daft as George W Brush." 

"It's true!" Ron backed him up, "We're as sane as you are. We can prove it! I'm sure we can... look..." he fished through his pockets, and bought out a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Falvour Beans, "Where'd we get these from, then?" 

"You can buy those in America." Ariel shrugged contemptuously, "It's no big deal." 

"We can do magic," Malfoy put in his say now. 

"Yeah, so can Dominic Wood." 

To Harry's surprise, Pal frowned, "I dunno, Ariel. Maybe we should listen to them. I mean... supposing it's true?" 

Ariel sighed huffily, "Right, fine, get them to friggin' talk, then. But we're leaving as soon as we meet Miriam and Soph', right?" 

"Well, OK. C'mon, continue one of you please?" 

"Our magic," Malfoy spat, guessing correctly that Domanic Wood was a Muggle magician, "Is hardly like some common entertainer's." His hand went to his pocket. 

"Whatever, freak." 

"Malfoy, don't--!" 

Too late. 

"_Taratellegra_!" 

The spell hit Ariel full on in the chest, and she began dancing around like a badly worked marrienette. 

"Malfoy you idiot!" Hermione half- screamed at him. People were beginning to give the unfortnate Ariel strange looks. Hermione grabbed her own wand now, and shot the counter curse at Ariel, who stopped dancing suddenly, glaring evilly and rubbing her limbs. She muttered soemthing that Harry didn't catch. Paloma stared. 

"Wow..." 

"OK, so maybe you're telling the truth," Ariel admitted grudgingly, looking uneasy now, "I believe you. Cool. But... what can we do?" 

Hermione explained to them. When she had finished, the two authors gaped at her. 

"Wow... just wow..." Ariel blinked, "That's some story!" 

"And it's true." Ron confirmed, "Every last word." 

"Sheesh... must be real bad in the Establishment," Pal blinked, amazed. 

"It's not exactly what you'd call a holiday." 

"Obviously not." Paloma nodded, looking a little bewildered, "This is just amazing! The kind of thing that happens in fics, not in real life!" 

"But will you help us?" 

Ariel looked doubtful, "I dunno. I... guess so... " 

"Tell you what, wait around a bit," suggested Pal, "We're meeting our friends Sophie and Miriam. Sophie's a propper fanfiction writer, and has actual stories posted unlike us two. I expect they'll know more what they're doing. Miriam certainly reads enough!" 

"Great!" Harry smiled, "That's really great." 

"Yeah, thanks." Hermione and Ron added. Malfoy nodded his head stiffly. 

"Dude, you really need to lighten up!" Ariel told him. Malfoy gave her the death- stare. She returned the look with a bright smile, which showed almost all her teeth. 

"And finally!" Paloma breathed, as the station was filled with the loud rumble of train wheels. "How long does it take for a train to get here! Train strikes suck." 

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Malfoy, Paloma and Ariel stood along against the wall, as the crush of passengers shoved their way off of the train and along the platform. 

"Hope she can find us..." Paloma worried, standing on tippy-toes to see above the head of the crowd, "Hey, there they are! Sophie! Miriam! Hey, Soph'! Miri, over here!" Pal waved cheerfully at the smallest figure in the crowd, who eventually met her friend's eye, said something to her older compainion, and waved back. 

The two girl waved back. The girl who was addressed as Miriam was small and pleasently round faced, dressed smartly in a long pale blue coat and trousers. The effect of this suit was a little spolied by her Liverpool Football Team cap, and scruffy trainers. Her almost black hair was pulled into two short curly bunches. She worse oval glasses, and had a mild look about her. Sophie looked a little younger, at a guess eleven, but was taller, with long brown hair that bobbed around her shoulders, and eyes the colour of treacle. Both had a pleasent auror about them, and were sharing a burden of bags and suitcases. 

"Hello!" Miriam greeted them happily. Harry noticed that she had a strong Birmingham accent, "What's up? T' bloody train got stuck in a tunnel, and we were already late 'cause of a tube strike. Typical, isn't it? Ah well. Who're these?" 

"Harry, Ron, Hermione and Malfoy." Pal explained, adding, seeing the puzzled look on Miriam's face, "We'll explain later." 

"Hi," the other girl, Sophie, smiled at them shyly. She shared the same accent as Ariel and Pal, "nice to meet you. How goes it, Ariel, Paloma?" 

"Could be worse." Ariel gave a bland smile, "Could be worse..." 

"What's with these other guys?" Miriam wondered, "Were they filming here today or somethin'?" 

"Nope," Paloma shrugged, "We'll explain later. It's... a bit strange..." 

"Yep. Very strange. What's more, I think it might cause trouble... espeacially for a certain few book characters I could mention." 

Harry didn't know why, but he could have sworn, it was like the Gypsie's Curse. 

____________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Ok, well, I have't made a part that long in ages!!! Tell me what you think, guys! Hermione2, could you please Email me so that I know what your address is, or else say in your review?? Thanks a lot! 

C'mon guys... please review...? 

Ginny :) 


	3. Hanging In The Balence

POEM BY ME

Fools Rush In

Chapter 3

By Ginny :)

Hi there, peoples! ^_^ 

Sorry this took awhile... obviosuly, fanfiction.net has been very down indeed recently. 

This story is gonna progress slowly but surely... I'm still co-writing with Bunny Chan, and we are actually doing another story after 'Even Angels Make Mistakes', so those [three] of you who read our work, don't give up on us just because Melissa Johnns and co are no more, lol. They'll probably be back, actually. 

My thanks to hermione potter and Beth, for beta reading and thanks :+:Nicki:+: for helping me Americanise the, er, Americans... :) 

I'm going away for a week on Monday... 8 people.... on a small boat... scairy!!!! 

OK, that was long & pointless... well, read on, folks! 

Ginny :) 

____________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Things were eventually explained to Miriam and Sophie. Harry was surprised to see that Miriam accepted it with cheerful amusement, whilst Sophie nodded and looked shy and serious. From what he could figure out from their conversation, this was a Dream Come True, the kind of thing that Happens In Stories, Wow How Amazing! 

Only Ariel seemed at all unhappy about it. Harry had decided that he didn't like Ariel. She was mouthy, and had a patience that you needed scientific equipment to track down. She disliked every one of Harry and his friends on what was apparently sheer principal. Harry didn't understand why, but decided not to let it bother him. Malfoy said it was because she was American, but really, listening to Malfoy's opinions wasn't a mark of intelligence. 

The main problem seemed to Harry, was that now he and his friends had become a part of Reality, where could they go? He posed this question to Hermione, who in turn asked Paloma, guessing correctly that Ariel would only sneer. 

"Well..." Paloma frowned, thinking, "Ariel and I are staying in a hotel not that far away, called The Castle. It's near St. James Street." She turned to Miriam and Sophie, "Where are you two staying?" 

"With Miriam's aunt," replied Sophie swiftly, "They agreed to have us for a few days." 

"Right..." Paloma frowned in thought for a moment, and then continued, "How about, two of you guys come and stow away in the hotel with me and Ariel...? Miriam, would your aunt have the other two?" 

Miriam shrugged "I don't know. I suppose so. If it comes to it, they can lie low in my room." 

Ariel scowled "Do we even have to help them?" 

"Well, why not?" Paloma turned to her friend, eyes alight, "It'll be dead cool!" 

"I know!" Sophine nodded in agreement, "The Harry Potter characters--" 

"Excuse me," Malfoy interrupted, in chilly tones, "But I refuse to be referred to as 'a Harry Potter character'. I am as good as nothing to do with him, I'll have you know, Muggle, and--" 

"Shut up." If Malfoy's voice had been chilly, Ariel's was positively freezing. The two glared at each other, eye to eye. Rock brown against steel grey. Ariel won, and smirked happily, tossing her own silver web of hair back over her shoulder. 

"Well, um, moving swiftly on," Sophie put in, not wishing to see more of a confrontation then was necessary. When things started getting like this, there could sometimes be no stop to them, "Who'll go where?" 

"So long as I don't have to talk to this jerk," Ariel indicated Malfoy, "I don't care." 

"The feeling is entirely mutual, Mudblood." 

"Can you two put a sock in it for five minutes?!" Paloma protested, "I don't think I could cope if you two had to share a room with me anyway. Malfoy, you can go with Miriam and Sophie. Is that OK, you two?" 

"Yeah." 

"Fine." 

"What makes you think I want to go with anyone?" Malfoy objected, scowling at the girls. He was feeling out-numbered. 

"Well, you can stay here then, and get arrested for not having a valid ticket."  
"Dumbeldore'd get sued!" Miriam said happily, "If they had their ticket barriers stopping you lot getting off'f the station, 'cause none of you Hogwarts kids'd have the right tickets. You be trapped, and he'd probably get charged..." 

"But they don't have ticket barriers outside platform 9 or 10," pointed out Hermione logically, "So he won't." 

Miriam put on a mock hoity- toity tone of voice, "That's right! Destroy my interesting metal image, why don'cha?" 

"Look," Paloma sounded a little desperate, "We've got to get this sorted, right? Me and Ariel have got a hotel curfew to answer to, you know. And we would rather like to do some sight- seeing. Kings Cross isn't that great a place, you know. All the same, whose coming with us?" 

Harry and Ron volunteered to go with Ariel and Paloma. Or more accurately, were subjected to the other's opinions. 

The eight set off. Ariel, Miariam, Sophie and Paloma would probably have run away there and then, if they could have known what was going to come in the future... 

~*~ 

They boarded the Victoria Line train to St. James Street, with the three Americans fully intending to explore London to their heart's content. The characters kept getting strange looks. 

Even the hotel receptionist seemed to stare at them all oddly when Ariel and Paloma dropped off their bags, although that might have been because Ariel had just tried to eat a plastic grape from the imitation fruit basket on the desk. A girl with red hair made a loud comment to her friends about 'immature show offs' as they walked past. Paloma shot an imaginary air rifle after her. 

St James' Park was crowded, but they managed to find Malfoy, Hermione, Sophie and Miriam eventually. Harry was distantly used to people looking at him oddly, but it was the first time he'd ever been stopped in the street and been addressed as 'Daniel' and asked for an autograph by half a dozen Japanese Tourists. You didn't get many Japanese Tourists at Hogwarts, and anyway, everyone had known what his name was until now. 

You stood out, as an English person in St. James' Park, and Harry, Ron, Hermione, Malfoy and Miriam were not acceptions. This was because no sane British soul goes anywhere near it during tourist hours, if they don't want to spend all their spare time taking photos for tourists. 

The sun shone brightly through the trees, and glinted laughingly off of the surface of the lake. People picnicked in the grass, and broke laws about feeding the pigeons. Children shouted and chased each other in the dappled shade. A brass band played the Oom-Pah. Half a dozen girls in school uniform were singing loudly about Ging Gang Goolies, whatever _they_ were. A TV crew was there, filming a man talking excitedly about Ken Livingstone and Trafalgar Square. The breeze played in the trees, and the flowers seemed to smile. Couples walked hand in hand across the white bridge over the rippling green lake. 

It was that sort of an afternoon. 

The 8 teenagers sat on the grass and talked aimlessly, until it was time to leave. Harry was happy-- or what he certainly assumed was happy-- for the first time... well... ever! These people seemed decent, despite what he'd heard about fanfiction authors. All the same, he thought, you couldn't trust people who wrote, twisting things, bending words and phrases, making everything all wrong... 

What he didn't realise, was that almost every Harry Potter Fanfiction writer on the planet was currently experiencing writer's block. That is to say, all those who wished to write about Harry, Ron, Hermione or Malfoy. 

The sun soon hung low behind dark grey clouds. The air seemed to be charged with static, making Hermione's hair even frizzier then usual. A storm must be coming. They agreed to part ways; They could meet up again the next day. Harry and Ron left, running with Ariel and Paloma towards the hotel, suspecting that they'd already passed their curfew. They were almost right; they darted into the hotel lobby not a second before the doors were slammed shut by an irate Receptionist. 

"Keep the noise down! And don't expect a morning call tomorrow, coming in at this hour." 

"Sorry!" gasped Paloma, as she tried to catch her breath. 

"Hmmm," the Receptionist looked down her nose at the four, now rather scruffy, kids, "You in charge, are you?" 

Paloma nodded, "I'm the oldest, so I suppose so." 

"Right. Don't let any of them disturb the other guests, or else!" 

"I won't... I won't..."   
"Well, to bed then!" She chivvied them along, "Room 12a. And no getting up to _anything_, I know what teenagers are like, nowadays." 

Room 12a-- 12a being, Harry strongly suspected, an euphemism for the Dreaded 13-- was not designed for more then two people. The receptionist obviously hadn't registered that there were more people entering in the room then had previously been booked. Nor had she noticed the two boys, two girls occurrence, which would almost certainly have been very forbidden indeed. 

Eventually, they all found somewhere to lay down, and fell asleep like dead men. 

~*~ 

_Harry looked up. The sky was as black as a wolf's throat. A building was outlined against the lead sky. The Establishment. A thrill of horror ran through him, chilling his blood and bone marrow. A noise made him jump. He spun round. A Guard stood not five feet away, shapeless, terrible in the moonlight's distortion. A gasp rose in his throat, and, almost without thinking, Harry raced away as fast as he could. If the Guards found him...! But he was not followed. Maybe he hadn't been noticed? But... but he'd been feet away! How couldn't he have been? It didn't make sense... _

_But there was no time to wonder at it, as the ground seemed to fall away from his feet, and then rise again in a great shuddering heave. The force of it knocked all the breath from him. The air throbbed with a noise too loud to hear. There was light, heat, noise, the slap and sting of gravel against his skin as the ground heaved once more and Harry fell. His glasses cracked down onto the ground. Blinded, he fumbled desperately for them, searching the ground by feel. _

_Eventually, his finger felt the cold of the glass, and he was able to put them on again. One of the lenses seemed smashed, but he could still see with one eye. _

_He wished that he couldn't. _

_The Establishment, his old home and prison, was a wreck. He stumbled to his feet. Figures, too solid to be those of the Guards, seemed to be rising from the pile of rubble and cloud of dust, as though it were the Last Trump._

_ And then the familiar blinding pain hit him so hard it forced him to the ground again. He could feel himself screaming. It felt as though something was smacking him like a red hot knife between the eyes. He writhed in pain. _

_"Harry? Harry!" _

_"He's having a fit!" _

_"Like in the books. Cool!" _

_"Shutupshutupshutup!" _

_"Can't we do something?!" _

_"Why?" _

_"Shut up, Ariel!" _

_"Harry?! Wake up!" _

_Hands shook him. The world spun. Harry opened his eyes. _

Three worried faces hovered above him. He blushed at the expression on Ariel's. 

"You OK, mate?" Paloma looked nervously at him. 

The floor was pressing his glasses into his face. Harry forced himself up. He nodded vaguely, sweat pouring into his eyes. His mouth felt like something furryhad slept in it. He sat down shakily onto the futon where had he originally been sleeping. He was cold, but at the same time, far, far too hot. 

"Harry?" It was Ron, "What do you think...? I mean, this shouldn't be happening... not in Reality? Should it?" 

"Don'know," Harry muttered, "Don'think so... I mean... I saw the Establishment. You know, where we came from." 

"Yeah... but so what? Well, Voldemort. He's in there. How can you be dreaming about him? He can't do anything, there. Hermione was probably right," there was a note of nervousness in Ron's voice all the same, "he's probably a nice bloke who likes listening to The Goon Show and, erm, watering pot plants..." 

Ariel gaffawed, "Can't you just picture it? Voldie watering plants!" 

"'s an intereting idea," Paloma smirked a little, "But, look, we ought to get Harry to a hospital or something--" Everyone ignored her. 

"Look," Harry frowned, "I don't know, I don't understand it myself, but I think he's found a way out of the Establishment. Out of Fiction... into Reality." 

"Cool!" Ariel grinned sadistically. 

"No! No, it isn't," Paloma shook her head violently, "I get what they mean. Voldemort... in Reality... well! It's not a happy thought..." 

"You're mad!" Ariel shrugged, "You believe all this stuff! It's not Real, you know!" 

"It is Real!" Ron protested, "Trust me, you don't want to know what it's like. I don't think that You Know Who gave Voldemort all his powers. He must have some of his own, surely?" 

"I hope not, but..." Harry shrugged. 

And the door burst open. 

Two irate figures stood in the doorway. 

One, a girl with pronounced features and red hair, raised her eyebrows at them, "Excuse _me_, but can you lot continue killing each other in the morning?" 

"Some of us are trying to sleep!" Added the other girl, a blonde wearing a pair of teddy bear pyjamas, she glanced over in Harry's direction, "What's up with him?"   
"Ummm... bad dream," Paloma told her, not entirely untruthfully. 

"He looks pretty bloody beaten up for someone whose only had a dream. People don't scream that loudly 'cause they had a dream," objected the blonde, frowning from behind her glasses. 

"And is it even any of your business?" Ariel demanded. 

"I'm simply stating a fact. That's all." 

The red head raised her eyebrows, "Oh how lovely. Huh. I'm reporting you lot for disturbing us. What room is this? What're your names?" The two girls gave them grudgingly, "What about them two boys?" 

"Uhm?" Paloma said, exchanging nervous glances with Ariel, "Umm..." 

"Well? And don't try and tell me they don't have names, because they _must_ do." 

There seemed nothing else for it. Ariel told them. 

"OK," the blonde frowned, "Now tell us their real names." 

"It's true!" Paloma retorted. 

"Yeah right, pull the other, it's got bells on." 

"They can't be them, they're not real people," the blonde objected. 

"Well, they look like them," pointed out Ariel, with something bordering on logic. 

"Oh, please! Come on Eyra, I'm going to complain and tell the Receptionist that you're hiding boys in your room," the red head informed them cheerfully, "And what's more, if you guys don't shut up, I'll have to kill you, you do realise that, right?" 

"We can prove we're telling the truth!" Blurted out Paloma suddenly. 

The blonde, Eyra, bit her lip, "I think the boy with the dodgy glasses looks peaky. Are you sure he's OK?" 

"'Course he ain't," said Ariel, happily, "but he will be." 

Eyra looked doubtful, and opened her mouth to say something, but was cut across by her friend. 

"Who cares? Come on, let's go and report--" 

"I dunno, Dara... if he's ill, we should really call a GP out or something..." 

"No point," Paloma frowned, "I mean, he's Harry Potter. I somehow don't imagine that a Muggle doctor could do much. I mean, he doesn't even logically exist, for goodness' sake!" 

"I do!" Harry objected. 

"Shut up and never say anything ever again as long as you live." Ariel told him. 

"Listen!" Ron broke in suddenly, "Really! The whole of Realities' future could be hanging in the balance, and you lot just sit around here arguing about whether or not Harry exists!" 

"So you say, but how do we know that you exist?" Eyra grinned, enjoying herself, "I mean, I think I heard you say that, but _how can I be sure_?" 

"Well, if you heard me say it, I bloody said it!" Ron hadn't been born a natural philosopher, "In fact, I know I said it, and so do you, so stop pretending--" 

"But if you're not Real, how can you know you said anything? Perhaps we're all mad? Perhaps we're all dreaming?" Eyra's grin was beginning to resemble that of a wolf's, "More to the point," she continued, the others staring at her curiously, "Real or not, what happened to all the good looking ones of you? Just I quite fancy meeting Sirius Black and Lupin. Does Draco really wear leather?" 

"Not often," said Ron a little faintly, "Not that I know of." 

"Pity." 

Harry decided that he'd quite like to dissaperate now, please. He wished that he knew how to. 

____________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Please take a few seconds to read and review? I love feedback on my stories, and constructive criticism is extra-welcome! 

Ginny :) 


	4. Oh, bugger.

Fools Rush In

Chapter 4

By Ginny :)

::waves:: Hi!!! 

I'm sorry this took several million years, but life recently has been... shall we say... destracting. I've spent only so much time in this country [England], and more then enough time over _there _ [France] being interviewed by policemen [let's just say... I was victimised by a weird French bloke-- I think-- My French is debatable. Certain other things that happened were frankly unnearving and could have been understood if he was talking Ukranian.] 

Thanks to hermione potter and Beth for beta-ing! Oh, and also thanks to ::+Nicky+:: for helping me 'Americanise' this. 

Oh, and no, I'm not letting any more people into this. Really. I have more then enough... sorry! @.@ 

Enjoy the story! 

Ginny :) 

____________________________________________________________________________________________   
**Harry was never sure how the two girls, who were apparently named Eyra Dragonsworth and Dara Florence [or rather, in fanfiction circles, Wierdlet], were convinced to believe the impossible. All right, not impossible... but very, very highly improbable. There's a difference of sorts.   
They had decided to rise early the next morning in order to get to Miriam's aunt's house as soon as possible. The whole nightmare thing was not, it seemed to the four girls and two boys, a good omen. If it wasn't just a stupid-- though horrible dream-- then they needed to act, and quickly, despite the fact that none of them had the faintest idea what to do about __****anything** . 

**Harry supposed... well, he supposed that they would have to fight Voldemort... and then what? It didn't make sense that he could be destroyed. The greatest wizards and witches on Earth had tried to destroy him, (frequently!) and all had failed. Even Harry as a baby hadn't really destroyed Voldemort... he'd just... weakened him. _He'd come back_. What he'd done once, he could do again...   
They all trudged along the pavement, not speaking, all lost in their thoughts, keeping up a steady and pulsing, yet fast, pace along the pavement, with the wind that swept down the almost empty streets tousling their hair and pinching their skin. The streets shone with silver light, peculiar to a late summer morning in the city.   
They'd been walking for some twenty minutes before Paloma said, "You know what? I think we're going the wrong way."   
~*~   
The station had not been hard to find, once they had begun to walk in the right direction. The fast pace at which they had set off with had soon dropped, since there was little point in it. Chingford, where Miriam, Sophie, Malfoy and Hermione were staying, was a good hour away, even on the fastest of trains.   
The train was empty by the time they reached the station. They left the train, talking amongst themselves, and wandered into the wide street. It was now late morning, getting on for eleven o' Clock,**** but even so, there were few human beings around. People passed them like characters from a film; a couple of little old ladies; a boy on a bike, with a Newspaper Bag slung around his neck; several mothers with small children in uniform.   
"Hands up all those," said Dara, "... who knows where this Miriam girl lives?"****   
****"Round here somewhere..." Paloma said vaguely, "Ariel, did you get her address?"   
"You're all hopeless," Ariel informed them. "You'd be lost without me, like, ummm... like lost sheeps."   
"That's nice," Ron butted in, "Fascinating, in fact. Now just tell us, do you know where Hermione and Malfoy are?!"   
"Sheesh, give me a __****minute**, God!" Ariel scowled. "I've got to find the piece of paper it's written on first! Jeez!"   
"You're all so dense," Eyra said happily, feeling that she should donate a comment to the conversation.   
"No?! Really?!"   
"Ariel," Harry put in whilst sanity was still in the air, "can you please just look for the paper? Please?" **   
****"I _am_, I _said_... What are you looking at?!" Ariel growled at a couple of innocent little old ladies, who were watching the teenagers with interest. The watchers exchanged worried looks and trooped off. Ariel had that effect on people.   
She proceeded to empty out her whole knapsack onto the pavement, search**** through the scattered objects, and pronounc them useless, before proceeding to do the same with each of her pockets. Twenty minutes later, she produced a crumpled piece of paper from a purse from the bottom of her knapsack, grinned, and said that it was there all along, whoops-a-daisy, silly her.   
Dara took it from her, frowning, "Now all we have to do is decipher it from these hieroglyphics..."   
"Hey! There's nothing wrong with my writing!"   
"Except it looked like a seven- legged spider crawled across the page and died," put in Eyra.   
Eveyone nodded in agreement. Ariel narrowed her eyes, and snatched the piece of paper back. "Well, I can read it.."   
"How?" Paloma asked innocently.   
"I wrote it, dumby. I can read my own writing. You're are either mad, blind, or losers."   
"I'm going with mad," supplied Dara.   
"Uh huh..."   
Eyra, losing interest, began to sing Show Tunes to the world in general. A couple of passing Trendies made the V sign at her [a/n; No, not __****quite** like Winston Churchill ^_^].   
"_**Another openin', another show..."   
**_"It says," Ariel raised her voice, "It says, that Miriam Tatley's Aunt lives at 15, Raleigh Avenue, that on the 16th of July 2001, I bought a Toberlarone for 35p from Foxwell's Newsagents, and that I should have a nice day."   
"Where's Raleigh Avenue?"   
"I'm sure that's not how you spell 'Raleigh', Ariel... not 'R- A- H- L- E-E'... I could have sworn it was R-A-L-E--"   
"Shut up and go away."   
"No wonder I couldn't read it, it was upside down."   
_**"... In Phili', Boston, and Baltimoe'..."   
**_"It looks the same either way up, so I don't know why you're worried."   
"There's nothing wrong with my writing!"   
"Even so, there's plenty wrong with your spelling!"   
"_**... three weeks, you rehearse an' rehearse..."   
**_"Erya, shut up!"   
"Look, can we just get on with this?"   
"Is that a trick question?"   
"_**... The overture is about to start..."   
**_"Eyra! Shut up! You can't sing!"   
"I can so, Miss Patche!"   
"No, you can't, and don't call me Miss Patche! Is 'Ariel' too hard to prounce?!"   
"Eyra _**can**_ sing."   
"There! You see? Thank you, Dara."   
"Yeah, well, my _**sister **_can sing. It's brutal, but she can _sing_," Ron added.   
Eyra suddenly changed her tune, "... _**The daaay, that Weeeeasley died....and we were singing 'Bye, bye, Mister Ronniekins, bye; Eyra killed you, you were beef stew and you can't even cry...we'd say we miss you but it would be a lie, do you want an apple pie...?'" **_ Ron scowled, but forbore to comment.   
"Can we just find this Raleigh Avenue place?" Harry was getting more and more irritated. "We've been standing here, just getting odd looks, for ages..."   
"okay okay okay okay okay _**okay**_!!!" Ariel rolled her eyes. "God! Some people!"  
"Right... come on, everyone..." Paloma shepherded her friends along, looking stressed, "We're going to find this place whether you like it or not!"   
~*~   
"How come you lot got here so early?" Hermione frowned at her companions.   
"And who are these two?" added in Sophie.   
"Dara Florence, aka Wierdlet."   
"Eyra Dragonsworth. C'est moi!"   
She, Hermione, Malfoy, and Miriam been hijacked in the privacy of Miriam's aunt's house by the characters and authors, rather too early for their liking. They had been pulled to their feet, told to get out of their PJs, and hurried from the house, leaving the telly still blaring there C.H.U.M.S theme tune and Miriam's aunt open mouthed at the promise that they'd be back as soon as possable.  
Now, they wanted an explanation.   
"We had to come as soon as we could," Ron explained, "because Harry... well, he had one of his dreams about Voldemort last night, and-- Ariel, stop grinning like that, you just have a sick mind-- and... well, you know what that means!"   
Miriam and Sophie exchanged worried looks.   
"But... everything will be all right?" Sophie wondered out loud.   
Dara shrugged, "We don't know. It's hard to tell... I mean, this isn't the same as in books."   
"I know," Paloma nodded, "and that's what confuses me..."   
"But anyway," Hermione put in, "what** are we going to do about it?"   
"What can we do?" Ron frowned, "it's all so... urgh... weird..."   
"Oh, come __****off**," said Malfoy, loudly, "I don't know what you people have about believing everything Potter says, but personally, I don't see why we should believe him."   
"Oh?"   
Everyone looked at Malfoy, curious.   
"I mean," he continued, apparently unabashed, "What's so speacial about him? None of what you think you know about him is really Real. It's all made up. He never beat any Dark Lords when he was a baby, because _**that never really happened** _!"   
There was a moment of silence. Everyone seemed to be thinking about this. Ron was the first to speak.   
"That is the _**biggest load of rubbish**_ I ever--"   
"Oh, whatever, Weasley," Malfoy sneered at him, "you ** go on believing that."   
"Please, don't argue..." Sophie put in.   
"Yes, let's be reasonable!" Paloma nodded in agreement.   
"Why? This is totally more interesting!"   
"Oh, shut up, Eyra!"   
"Can't we all think about this __****logically**?" Hermione tried to get herself herd, but was drowned out by the babble.   
Ariel's loud voice rose above the others. "You can all believe what you like. I'm with Malfoy on this one."   
"You are?" Miriam blinked at her uncertainly.   
"You actually agree with him on something?" Dara wondered. "Wow!"   
"No, I was just saying that," Ariel's voice was heavey with sarcasm, "of course I agree with him, knucklehead!"   
"But look, I'm going to try and sound _**reasonable** _ here," Dara continued. "Whatever happens, it doesn't do any harm to check it out, does it?"   
"It's a bloody stupid waste of time. I'm here on holiday! We all are!"   
"I'm not."   
"Except for Miriam, we all are. And we could be having fun, seeing the sights, going to themeparks, meeting cute guys, but _**no," **_Ariel paused for dramatic effect. "Instead, we're wandering round after some idiotic Fictional kids! True, there's a certain novelty to hanging out with Harry Potter and Friends, but believe me, it wears off after a little while. Five minutes, in fact."   
"Yeah!" Eyra nodded emphatically, "I'd sooner Remus Lupin, he is so cute--"   
"Eyra, seriously, no-one cares."   
"Well, if not Lupin, that dude who's going to play Quirrel in the movie..." There was a pause. "What?!... Well, I like him. He's hot."   
"He's about twenty years older then you," Hermione pointed out dryly.   
"Your** point being?"   
"Well, moving swiftly on..." said Dara, giving Eyra a bemused look.   
"You all do what you like," Ariel announced, getting back into the swing of things, "but**** personally, I can't be _bothered_. I'm not going to hang round here, just wasting time."   
"You mean you're--?"**   
**"Yes. I'm going. Come on, Paloma. You're with me, aren't you?"   
"Not __****as such**..."   
"You're here on _**holiday**_ with me! Mom said so! We've got to stick together, remember?"   
"Fine. Fine... that's that then." Paloma turned to Harry, Ron,** and Hermione, "Sorry, guys. I'd help, but... you know how it is," she rolled her eyes, "Nice knowing ya. This will be something to remember, if nothing else."   
"Right. Anyone else with us?"   
Everyone looked at each other. Sophie bit her lip, but shook her head when she saw Miriam doing the same. Dara looked disdainful, with her arms folded. Eyra stared into outerspace, deaf to the world for the moment. Harry, Ron and Hermione glanced at each other uneasily. Whatever was going through his two best friends' minds, Harry thought, at least they wouldn't desert him. He could trust them. Hermione was fiddling nervously with the sleeve of her robe.   
"I'll come," Malfoy spoke into the silence. They turned to look at him.   
"You will?" Paloma looked little short of amazed, "You really think that's a good idea?"   
"I didn't say that I was going to spend any more time with you then needs be," Malfoy informed her dryly. "I merely stated that I'd come with you for now. As in, until this is all sorted out."   
"Change of tune!" Miriam raised her eyebrows.   
"Just a little," Sophie agreed with her friend. "Look, do you have to go? Can't we all just try and, and stay together?"   
"Let them leave!" Eyra looked scornful, "If they like. What's stopping them? Nothing! Let's get this over with, I'm hungry. I want elevenses."   
"Well, come if you're coming, dork," Ariel shrugged to Malfoy. "Only**** don't get in the way, all right?" and she and Paloma swept away unapplogetically.   
Malfoy, who had obviously never heard the word 'dork' before, oblivious to its meaning, stalked after them, head high.   
There was a heavy**** silence.   
"Well," said Dara, breaking it, "that settles that, then. Looks like just the..." she did a quick body count, "just the seven of us."   
"Three less might not be a bad thing," pointed out Hermione. "I think it's just as well that they've gone. They were getting in the way."   
"Especially Malfoy," Ron agreed, "And I'm not saying that Ariel was a help, either."   
Miriam grinned, "Notice you don't say anything 'bout Paloma!"   
"Well... she was... all right I suppose," Ron shrugged sheepishly. "It's probably just as well that she's gone and all."   
"Yeah, right. Whatever you say."   
"Well... what do we do now, anyway?" Harry wondered out loud.   
"We find out if all this Voldemort stuff is true? Maybe? Possibly? Perhaps?"**** Eyra suggested.   
"Good idea!"   
"Yes. One thing, though-- how?"   
"Trust you to put a damper on things, Hermione."   
~*~   
Somewhere else-- __****somewhere**!-- something important is happening...   
It is between that where the moon walks and the place where the starts hide. It is a place where the sun dances.   
And quite a fuss is being caused. 

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If anyone wants an alternative to author alerts on here, I've made a yahoo group, at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/pleasepost [-- you can copy & paste the URL]. If you join, you should get an Email from me when I post a story. 

Please leave a review! 

Ginny :) 


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